


Into the Sea

by chickenfried



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Families of Choice, Gen, Kid Fic, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Siblings, Unhealthy Relationships, shady government agencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenfried/pseuds/chickenfried
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At nineteen, Lisa doesn't realize there are things you shouldn't ask of someone who'd do anything for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lisa wants to say her dad isn't part of her life. She hasn't lived with him in four years. Hasn't even been in the same state for longer than a month for all that time. Hasn't spoken a word to him or of him. But still, her first thought when she sees the two blue lines is of her father.

That more than anything else is what brings her to the clinic. It's not what she had been expecting- no angry picketers yelled at her, no old crones invaded her space to warn her she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life. She'd made an appointment over the phone, and she thinks it was with the same lady working the front desk when she walks in. She has brown eyes and a smoker's voice, the same ubiquitous smile of secretaries and cashiers everywhere.

Lisa doesn't want to be here. She'd never even considered that she would ever be here. She used birth control- took the pill like she was a thing made of clockwork, used a condom every single goddamn time.

When her period didn't come she'd thought she must have some kind of illness- cancer, cancer was her first thought, just like her mother. Pregnancy hadn't even crossed her mind until she up chucked down the window and door of the car she was in. The guy she'd hitched a ride with hadn't even been mad- he'd been kind and understanding. "My wife," he'd said, "Did the same thing for an entire month when she was pregnant with our first." And the roiling in her stomach turned to lead. Her mom didn't get sick from cancer, she got sick from the chemo.

She does _not want to be here_ , but there isn't a distance far enough in the entire universe that would let the specter of her father fade. Lisa never thought much about abortion- she didn't vote- she didn't judge other people for the choices they made. She never thought about being a mother either- obviously she wouldn't have kids. Neither would Lenny.

The doctor looks like she hasn't slept in a month, but she's perfectly professional. She says after twelve weeks, taking misoprostal can have mild to severe complications. She says that this is a big decision not to be taken lightly, that abortion is a difficult and painful process.

Lisa doesn't want to be here- she wants to be with her brother, she want to not be so fucked up, she wants to be a better person, and she wants the tiny little fetus in her stomach. She wants to take care of something. And Lisa may be selfish, but she's not selfish enough to condemn a child to being hers. So Lisa doesn't want to be here, but she came anyway.

Lisa doesn't notice the Doctor moving until her hand is on Lisa's arm and she's jerking back. She's crying- not stoic or silent- great wracking sobs that she hasn't felt since she was thirteen. She knows this is the right decision, the only decision. A phone rings, shrill and loud. It takes Lisa a few rings to realize it's her's. It's an unknown number, but maybe...

Lisa's never been religious, but when it's Len's voice on the other line- "Hello, little sister"- she knows. Two failed forms of birth control was one thing, but her brother calling her just then, after months without contact, it _meant_ something.

Lisa bites her lip, hard enough to hurt. She smiles. "Hi Lenny."

.

Since Lisa is all about signs and cosmic significance and kismet now, Len finds himself in Starling City with a new name and a pregnant sister. It's foggy, late into the evening, and they're at the house Lisa had gushed with the realtor about- "it's so close to the school"- "friendly neighborhood"-"plenty of room for a kid and a husband"-"brother"-"... oh"- located in a suburb just out of down town. He feels a little like the world has turned on it's head.

Lisa is wearing a blue sundress (you can see her stomach curve out against it) a giant sunhat and thick sunglasses, sitting on the wet grass with her back leaning against the porch of their new house. There's a self help book in her lap. It could be _Pregnancy for Dummies_ or _The Girl's Guide to Power and Success_ or _The Six Stages of Parenting_ or _Adulting: How to Become a Grown-up in 468 Easy(ish) Steps_. Those were just the titles he'd seen of the giant stack Lisa had left the book store with. It's unsettling to see her reading so much- she'd never been an academic kind of person. Seeing her set it down to chat with the new neighbors every few minutes was a relief. Len wonders if he should tell her that her 'friendly' smile is scaring them away.

He's helping a delivery man carry in a set of furniture. It's blatantly middle class, not opulent or second hand and falling apart. Something about arranging it all in the empty four bed house, tick marks just barely visible through the fresh paint in the doorway of the kitchen, makes his gut hurt. The delivery man is nice enough- John- maybe a little too friendly toward his nineteen and _pregnant_ sister. Len shakes his hand when they're done with a pointedly strong grip.

It's been two months since Lisa had told him the news. Len isn't sure that what's happening has fully sunk in yet. Visits to the Doctor, rearranging finances, looking at houses to buy, abandoning old plans and making new ones he'd never considered. They own a volvo registered to Lisa Starr. It's surreal.

He hadn't seen Lisa for more than a few days in years. When he left their childhood home. When she did, traipsing around the entire country on stranger's kindness and in some cases- foolishness. Now she's grinning up at him from where he's standing over her, she lifts her hand imploringly and he helps her stand. She's warm, real, and beautiful, almost as tall as he is. When had his baby sister grown up? Had Len really missed it?

Now there's another life growing inside her. Len had never thought of ever being near a baby or kid, even less his or his sister's. Lisa's nineteen. It's the same age his mom had been when she'd been pregnant with him. There used to be a picture of her and their father on he mantle, her in a colorful wedding dress, him looking kind and in love.

Lisa leads him into the house, dropping her book, hat and glasses on the couch Len had lifted in there half an hour before. She walks confidently, like she's lived there for years, to the laundry machines near the back door. Pulls out dry white linens and folds them over her arms. She's like a stranger, some strange domestic creature inhabiting the body of his sister.

His vision turns white. He can barely see outlines through the gauze. Lisa's thrown one of the sheets over his head.

"Don't look at me like that," Lisa says, singsong.

Len squeezes his eyes shut, scrunches his nose, and breathes in... out. He lifts up his arms, also covered by the sheet, sliding over his head and shoulders.

"Boo."

Lisa shrieks playfully and he can hear her feet as she runs away. Len obligingly gives chase, until he trips over something thigh height he hadn't seen. Somehow the sheet doesn't budge during his glorious fall. Len rolls on his back and assesses the throbbing pain in his thigh, his chest. Just a bruise.

"Lenny?" Lisa's voice is tentative.

Len bites his cheek. He's terrified in a way he's not sure he's ever felt before. "How the hell are we going to do this?"

A dog barks, and a distant door clicks open and shut. A car drives by, rolls over a manhole cover. He can her his breath against the sheet, warm and slightly damp.

Lisa lies down on the floor next to him, close enough that their arms are touching.

He can feel his heart racing in his chest and he wants to be dead.

"The way I see it, I may not be saint, but I could have turned out a hell of a lot worse. And that's down to you. You raised me Len. If it weren't for dad, well. The thing is, I would never consider doing this without you. But with you here, I know we can do this. Together. I know it won't be easy, but _fuck it_ we can do this."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Meet the Neighbors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No solid plans on this one, but it seems to be coming better than other things...

_Manners are made up of trivialities of deportment which can be easily learned if one does not happen to know them; manner is personality—the outward manifestation of one’s innate character and attitude toward life._

"You're hanging out with a housewife not 16th century French royalty," Len drawls plucking the etiquette book out of Lisa's hands. Lisa sniffs.

"Read from the third paragraph, please?"

Len quirks an eyebrow. "Acceptances or regrets are always written. An engraved form..."

Lisa is strongly reminded of afternoons on he couch, when their dad was at work, Lenny's voice was much higher then, before puberty, before juvie, but not before their dad started hitting them. Lisa shuts her eyes and focuses on the present, hand unconsciously drifting to her stomach.

She'd met a few of the neighbors the other day, mostly "Oh I was wondering who would move into the Johnson's old place" and "That must be your husband what a beautiful couple" and "Another kid for the street how nice, my Timmy just turned three". Lisa was a little overwhelmed by the friendly overtures, pleased because it's exactly what she had imagined it would be, but also feeling incredibly out of place.

She didn't have any kind of strong connection with the woman she was seeing today- Lucy was nothing like Lisa except in what they both lacked. It was easy to see with the way the other neighbors looked at Lucy, like she didn't belong.

Lucy Chang is nothing like Lisa's cartoonish archetype of a suburban housewife. She isn't beautiful in that TV motherly girl-next-door kind of way (white, tan, with blue eyes and blonde hair). Lucy looks like someone who just stepped out of a magazine. Probably because she did.

Lisa saw yesterday afternoon, power walking in black leggings that showed long, thin legs and a stroller. She'd slowed down at their house, sparing Lenny and the delivery man's backs a passing glance before focusing an expressionless face on Lisa. Lisa shamelessly stared back, eyes hidden behind a pair of dark tinted sunglasses.  She had pale skin, dark eyes and long black hair ties up in a sleek ponytail.

"Tom Ford," was the first thing Lisa's new neighbor said to her. If it weren't for the name on the temple of her glasses, Lisa wouldn't have known what she was talking about. Her brother was the sartorial one. Lisa's tastes ran more along the lines of expensive for expensiveness' sake.

"Lisa." She decided to introduce herself, withholding judgement until she got more information. For a moment the woman looked at her like she was crazy, before grinning sharkishly, teeth white and oddly alluring.

"Lucy. I live two doors down."

And Lisa knew exactly the property she was talking about- one about twice as big as the neighboring places and five times as opulent.

"This is Joy." Lisa looked. The baby was pink and mostly hairless. Ugly and cute in that way all babies are.

Lisa tried not to, she knew it was rude, but she couldn't help eyeing Lucy's spandex clad body. Lisa put a hand on her stomach, felt all the extra fat between her hand and the baby inside her. Lucy's smile turned sly. "I can recommend a trainer, once you get rid of your little parasite."

 

Lenny's voice cuts off and he closes the book. "You're going to be late."

"Fuck."

Lenny frowns, "I'm not sure that was a commonly used term when this book was written."

Lisa shoves him out of the way, pretending not to notice the pleased smile on his face. He'd do the same for her.

 

Lucy doesn't comment on Lisa arriving ten minutes passed the time they'd arranged. She looks every bit as stunning as the day before, and Lisa is reminded of fairy tail princesses and castles. The house is full of marble and glossy hardwood floors.

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

Lisa shakes her head, eyes transfixed on the bouquet of roses sitting on a pristine grand piano- a Bosendorfer.

"My mom's baby shower gift, she can't wait to shove all her failed expectations for me onto Joy. You don't mind if I have a martini do you? Joy was not interested in sleeping last night."

"No problem," Lisa says, attention moving from the crystal chandelier hanging delicately above them to her hostess. On closer examination, Lucy's eyes area little red, but no other signs of exhaustion were visible.  Lucy laughs as she leads her into the kitchen. "It's great skincare and makeup, not my race."

"Oh, I didn't-"

Lucy waves a hand pulling a bottle of gin out from a glass case. "You sure you don't want any?"

Lisa does want, but- "Oh, sorry, how old are you?"- not the reason she'd been thinking of. Lisa puts a hand on her stomach and swallows down her discomfort. "Nineteen."

"Dang, you guys started young. So which one of those cuties was the Mister?"

Lisa coughs. "Actually he's my brother."

Lucy's nose wrinkles. "And you kept the baby?"

Lisa's laugh is half humor and half horror. Lucy grins back at her. "I kid, I kid. And I can definitely respect the non-traditional. You sure you don't want anything? Unfortunately the only other thing I have aside from baby formula is Tequila mix, but maybe that wouldn't be too bad?"

Lisa smiles, genuinely this time. "Could I get some water?"

.

"How was her majesty?" Len asks when his sister gets back, "I guess delivery pizza is too low class for you now."

Lisa sniffs, sits down on pastel floral pattern of the couch and lifts her feet up with a contented groan. By this point he's read about fifteen separate articles about pregnancy (he'd spent all of the time Lisa was gone obsessively checking reviews of the OBGYNs in the area), maybe he shouldn't be throwing stones, and knows her feet must be starting to swell.

"Only if there's no pineapple. Exoticism is in."

There are a thousand questions that have sat on the tip of his tongue since they got back in touch

Where have you been?

Are you okay?

Do you hate me for leaving?

"Do you still hate bell peppers?" It's an inane, unimportant, valueless question, but Lisa's answer still settles the anxious wash of his emotions.

"Lenny, you _know_ me. I will always hate bell peppers."

 

Before they moved here, Len had cased the city like he was going to pull a heist on the entire municipality. Of course if he _had_ done a job in Starling, Len would never have agreed to move, fed proof fake identities or no. Len had always considered Central City his home, unlike Lisa, the idea of moving felt like a concession to their father.  He wonders when this will start feeling real, if the rest of his life is going to feel like a distorted dream.

There were a few suburban neighborhoods like the one the house they'd bought is in, between the sprawling properties of the ultra rich and the city center and Glades. The sky scrapers were a bit taller, the drug scene a little harder, and the gap between the rich and poor a little wider. There's no bay. Len doesn't like the way the air smells, doesn't like all the unfamiliar faces. Loves Lisa, but is terrified of being a protector instead of someone's partner.

Lisa is dangerous in her own way, Len knows about the hand gun in her purse- her aim had always been better than his, but she's his baby sister and carrying a child. Would be taking care of that child for decades. It's a stark contrast to Mick's predictable chaos. Len wonders if he would be excited about the _life growing inside her_  if he were a better person.

The drug store is almost identical, but the lights are a little brighter, the employees a bit more guarded, the aisles arranged differently.

"This is totally walking distance."

"Not carrying you."

"I don't think two blocks is what the Doctor meant by heavy exercise." Lisa seems to be getting legitimately upset, so Len pulls out an old receipt from his pocket, prepared to ignore her.

"Is that a _shopping list_?"

He breathes in slowly through his nose. "Nothing wrong with being prepared."

"Okay grandma. What's first?"

Lisa seems content to follow his lead from the dish soap and sponges to the house cleaner, but she puts her foot down at the laundry soap.

"That stuff will ruin your clothes."

"At least they won't stink."

Len rolls his eyes and puts both of them into the basket. The metal handles dig into his arm. Lisa had been getting more and more sensitive to smells lately and something she loved one day would make her gag the next.

 

The neighborhood is full of small lawns, with the occasional few square feet of overly pruned flowers. The sidewalk is a little cracked in a few places, but it runs down both sides of the street. Almost as if to make up for the city people being a little less friendly, the attitude in the neighborhood is vaguely Stepford.

Case in point: Two minute after they get back to the house there's a knock on the door. Len drops the dishsoap by the kitchen sink and walks over to answer it, irritation rushing through him at the intrusion. A couple, mid thirties, stand on the porch with matching friendly grins. The man, thin with a neatly trimmed beard, holds out a hand.

"Hello there!" His voice booms out, incongruous with his size. "I'm Jack, this is Rachel."

Len shakes his hand firmly and slips on a pleasant face. "Leonard. It's good to meet you both."

Rachel beams at him, genuine. He can hear Lisa come up behind him and Len feels himself relax marginally.

"Rachel!"

"What a memory! I'm sure you've met a bunch of people by now-" the woman seems to have a bit of a motor mouth- "This is Jack. We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Officially." She holds up a pan, filled with some kind of oddly textured brown confection Len can't name. Lisa takes it with a matching grin pulling at her lips, one of the likes he hasn't seen in almost a decade. His heart aches.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The OBGYN Lenny judges to have the best reviews treats her like she's fourteen. The OBGYN she's recommended to by Lucy is uncomfortably interested in keeping her body "looking young". The one she's recommended to by Rachel is uncomfortably interested in the sex of the unborn baby.

After that first day and visit from Jack and Rachel, everyone within a three block radius knew they were siblings. They also ended up with a horrendous amount of casseroles- "God sis, did you _have_ to tell them neither of us cook?"- and an incredible slew of invasive questions, unsolicited advice, and pointless comments.

If Lisa hears "How will people know what to get for the baby shower?" one more time she might pack up all of their belongings and drive to Alaska with Lenny in the trunk of her car- decent public schooling be damned. Lisa scowls and rolls over so that her face is pressing into the back of the couch. It smells faintly of old lady laundry detergent, but Lisa has spent so much time on the fucking thing that the smell has started to become comforting instead of repellent. She feels like she and the baby may become one with the couch, some kind of deformed furniture/ multi human chimera.

Lisa lays a hand on her stomach and the anger seeps out of her bones. What other people wanted from her didn't mean anything. When she told Lenny that she what gender or sex or whatever the baby was _didn't matter_ he quirked up an eyebrow, said "okay" and that had been it. With almost everything Len has gone along with everything Lisa has wanted, supporting in ways Lisa never learned how.

He'd left earlier that morning in slacks and a button down mumbling about talking someone into a job. The unending stream of visitors had left him with his hackles almost permanently up. His smile getting friendlier and friendlier as mind slipped further away.

After the initial novelty of it all, Lisa hasn't been too pleased with the majority of interlopers either, but she's not exactly ready to make enemies of the entire neighborhood quite yet. It's the first time in her life that Lisa has had a place that was hers, where she wasn't taking advantage of someone's generosity, or being taken advantage of. A place that she could listen to music in and breathe in and feel calm in. The only way another person could come in was if she invited them in, and that takes a large amount of the sting out of nosy couples.

A dissonant off beat buzzing interrupts the music coming out of her laptop. She shuts it off and recognizes the sound as the house's doorbell.

Lisa's back aches and her feet ache and she feels terrifyingly unbalanced, but she's glad she was forced to get up.

Lucy and Joy are at the door, Joy inspecting everything with wide eyes and Lucy giving Lisa an extremely judgmental look. Lisa looks down at herself. Okay, the maternity clothes weren't very attractive, but wasn't being six months pregnant a good excuse?

"You don't believe in that pregnancy BS, do you?" Lucy asks her, handing her Joy. Lisa smiles down at the baby in her arms, tries not to think about how delicate she is. Joy's big black eyes peer back. Lisa crosses hers and Joy's mouth drops open.

"What?" Lisa asks.

"Listen to Mozart and they'll be smarter," Lucy says moving Joy's bag from her shoulder to a chair at the kitchen table.

Lisa frowns, nonplussed, then realizes that Lucy had heard the music she was listening to through the door.

"That was Purcell."

Joy punches her boob in agreement and Lisa winces. Lucy snorts, "I didn't think anyone but my mom listened to Classical music anymore."

Lisa shrugs, still hyper focused on the infant in her arms.

"Are you sure..?" Lisa can't finish the question.

Lucy inspects her sharply. She's wearing a grey satin dress, white pearls lining her neck in sharp contrast to her creamy skin, hair in a glossy dark bun, her dark lined eyes land on Joy and her face softens. She looks at Lisa with a little smile, eyes crinkling.

"I've spent ten times as much time with you than our baby sitter, I know exactly how much time you've spent researching infant care and I trust you a hell of a lot more than my parents."

Lisa swallows, feeling very young. Lucy loves her child. Lisa feels stupid and immature for not realizing it sooner. Maybe they do have more in common than Lisa had thought because Lucy clearly knows how it feels to be trusted with something so incomprehensibly big for the first time. 

"Thank you."

 

Lisa thinks her mom loved her, when she could.

It's strange, to feel grateful for her dad. Grateful that he's in jail and she'll never see him again, and that her child will never come into contact with him, but still. She's spent so long feeling bitter about in her lot in life that it's very foreign to pity someone's interactions with their family. Lucy is trapped in the present, not in her past, confined to the memories of two people who refused to share them with each other.

Everything she's read has told Lisa that after the initial excitement wore off, babies were incredibly boring. Lisa has to tear herself away after an hour spent on the floor, making faces back and forth with Joy and starting her clearly inept education in  _Baroque Classics_. 

Reading about property taxes might have been boring even if Joy hadn't been there to distract her, but Joy turns out to be a good partner to read about basic house maintenance with. 

Its hard to really think that there's a life like Joy, delicate and so very impressionable, growing inside her right now.

 

Lenny comes home with a job and a beginner's cookbook, half an hour after Lucy picks Joy up. Lisa greets him with a strengthened resolve to be a better person.

Their kitchen is small and clean with vinyl flooring that has an outdated blue and white pattern.  They own a set of cookery that Lisa had taken out of the packaging and washed yesterday. 

They start with spaghetti and marinara from a jar, somehow manage to drain the hot water with the industrious use of a plate. Len starts a new list of things to buy and Lisa sticks it on the fridge. They sit at the polished wood table to eat and Lisa thinks it's the best meal she's ever had. When their done washing the dishes Lisa rests her head on Lenny's shoulder.

"What are we going to name it?"

He puts an arm around her shoulder and leans his cheek against the top of her head. Murmurs, "Whatever you want Lis."

Lisa grabs the loose fabric of his shirt. Her chest aches.

"It's as much your _child_ as mine. If you want."

Len doesn't move and it's further into the night as they stand, leaning on each other, unseen child in their mind and hearts, before he answers.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Before her mom got sick, Lisa got peewee skating lessons at Central City's ice rink. After, grandpa entered her in competitions and she became the scholarship kid. That kind of pain, effort and determination was something she hadn't realized she missed.

Lisa's lungs burn, her legs feel like rubber and her stomach _aches_. Her ribs on her right side ache, a bruise above nose throbs- painful, but not broken, and she's pretty sure adrenaline is keeping her from feeling a twisted ankle. Lisa barely dodges a punch aimed at her temple, sweaty ponytail trailing behind as the rest of her drops low to sweep a kick toward the man's knees, taped with white like a target. He crumples.

" _Damn_ that's mean."

Lisa grins, panting, and wipes the sweat off her forehead with her arm, her hands on her shirt, and offers a hand to the man sprawled on the mat. He takes it with a half hearted glare and Lisa hauls him up, thigh muscles screaming at the exertion.

"I blame youth and alcohol," he grumbles.

Lisa smirks. "Whatever you say old man."

Rupert is thirty-eight, stocky, with a ruddy complexion and thin sandy hair. Like Lisa, he's spent two hours doing condition work before they sparred, including a five mile run.

Lisa grabs her bag from a bench and heads to the single stall shower.

Rupert swears at his watch. "Is Meiko ever going to install more showers?"

"Maybe when hell freezes over. Have good _meeting_."

"Fuck you!"

 

Lucy had been delightedly scandalized when Lisa had ditched yoga class for a run down mixed martial arts gym and a fitness partner in worse shape than Lisa was. The place smelled like old sweat and rarely had more than three people using it at the same thing- a good thing because anything above five would be pushing each other's personal space.

Lisa enjoys the hot water for as long as she can- generally around five minutes before it turned icy. Skin is dried with a towel, damp hair is pulled up in a bun, and lotion is rubbed in perfunctorily. Lisa's hand linger over the scar above her abdomen before she slips on her dress. A little more attention is given to her face with a foundation brush and other basics. Lisa nods at the woman setting up by the punching bag before slipping out.

The coffee shop is across the street, and Lenny's office two blocks down. It's a familiar routine.

" _Good_ morning."

Lisa still didn't know the secretary's name. She smiles and winks at him on the way to Lenny's office.

In three years he's worked himself up from a 4x2 cubicle to an office with a view, through two promotions and four pay raises. All the employees there are half in love with him. Lisa's pretty sure her brother could con the prince out of England if he really wanted to.

He's planted behind his desk, eyes trained on the computer screen through black rimmed glasses, starched button down tucked into dark slacks. His fingers fly over the keys. And Lisa loves him, but sometimes she doesn't think that she knows him any better than his coworkers.

"You can leave it on the desk, Ana. Thank you."

Lisa swallows, finds her smile.

"Not even a good morning?"

Lenny blinks and looks up. The focused lines around his eyes soften.

"Good morning, sis."

Lisa steps into his office, grateful for the wool in her dress- the air inside being ten degrees cooler than outside. She hands him a cup.

"Hey Lenny."

His eyes close with pleasure at the first sip and Lisa's smile turns genuine.

"They didn't forget the whip cream this morning."

"I doubt they ever will again."

There are bags under his eyes- light, but noticeable and more silver in his hair than one would assume for someone barely thirty years old. There are very few things Lisa feels able to do to help her brother, in stark contrast to how much she owes him for helping her.

"The hot chocolate is going to get cold if you stare at me for much longer."

Lisa smirks. "I can't help it, you're just _so handsome_."

Lenny bats her hand away. "It's your fault everyone assumes we're a couple."

Lisa shrugs, stretching out out in the hard backed chair across from his desk. 

"That chair is uncomfortable for a reason," Len drawls, coffee set to the side, attention back on his computer.

Lisa huffs. "Have a good day bossman."

 

"Aunty Lisa!"

 Joy answers the door with a huge grin on her face. Lisa scoops her up and spins her in a quick circle.

"I see someone finally decided to wake up."

Joy slaps her shoulder excitedly. A bruise decides to make itself known there.

"Put me down! I wana show you what we made."

Lisa follows the running toddler in an exaggeratedly slow walk. Joy rolls her eyes- and wasn't four too young for that kind of behavior- and grabs her hand.  Lisa lets herself get pulled to Lucy's garage.

The cement floor is covered in colorful chalk- asymmetrical shapes and scribbles, JOY YAMADA, written in big lopsided capitals in one corner of the chaos, Mick Starr written in Lucy's neat writing below.

Lucy is reading a magazine in a folding chair with Mick asleep in her lap. Lisa's chest warms at the sight of her kid covered in pale chalk, dead to the world.

She looks up to smile at Lisa. "Joy woke up inspired. It's called 'Bacchanalia'."

"Nuh-uh!" Joy argues.

"I'm sorry Joy, but that's what Mickey told me."

"Mick can't even say  _Lenny_ yet."

"Whatever it's called it's very nice. Would you mind if I took a picture?"

"To send to Uncle Lenny?" Joy asks with big eyes.

Lisa nods. "I think he'd like it, don't you?"

Joy bounces on the balls of her feet.

"Make sure you get the dog," she says, pointing to a black scribble near the center of the chalk, "Mick drew it."

 .

The meeting is aggressively boring, like the majority of time Len spends at the office. No one bats an eye when he pulls out his phone. If asked, he would deny the excitement he felt when he saw that Lisa had sent him an attached picture. And the fact that the vast majority of his memory was taken by hundreds of pictures of his niece and whatever else caught Lisa's attention. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not what I want to be writing, but it's whats coming, so... Also next chapter is not so lighthearted, so if your looking for fluffier stuff, skip that one.

Len wakes up to the smell of pancakes. It's the best kind of motivator to get out of bed and into the kitchen, despite the warmth of his sheets and chill of the hardwood floor. Lisa is standing with a spatula at the ready, in sleep pants and a long sleeved shirt. Something about the bruise blossoming on her face, half hidden by messy hair, adds to the overall impression of softness. The sun is only half risen, shining in through the white curtains of the kitchen. For their entire lives, Len doesn't have a memory of Lisa without scrapes and bruises, broken bones. He wishes he could wipe them away, the discoloration, the scars, the memories.

"Morning Lenny." Lisa smiles at him. "Could you get the blueberries out of the microwave?"

"Sure thing, sis."

He sets the steaming bowl on the kitchen table, next to a tub of yogurt. Mickey is strapped into her high chair, looking at the steaming fruit with great interest. Len feels his face soften involuntarily. Just like Lisa, she had inherited the ability to take all his power away with a single look.

She looks up at him and beams. "Lee!"

"Good morning princess. You hungry?"

"No."

Len gasps. "Not even for pancakes?"

Lisa sets a plate on the table- fluffy, golden and fragrant. Micky looks at her, amazed.

"Pancanks."

Covered in yogurt and berries, Len cuts it into bite sized pieces. Micky's already holding her plastic blue spoon in a tiny fist. He sets the plate down in front of her. They stare at each other a prolonged moment before Len raises an eyebrow. A grin blooms on her face, and Len marvels at the little baby teeth, almost all grown in.

_"_ _Thank you!"_

Len ruffles her hair. It's a constant wonder, with all his sins, how he managed to end up here.

The sweet smell in the room turns slightly bitter and Len looks up to catch his sister's eyes. They widen as she jerks out of her reverie, turning her attention back to the smoking pan. She flips it onto a plate, and rushes to the window to let the smoke out.

"Oh fu-ooey."

Over the course of them both learning to cook, the smoke alarm had become a much hated noise.

Len snorts. "I'll take that one."

Lisa grabs back the plate and licks the slightly blackened pancake, holds up her middle finger.

"Too bad. This ones mine."

 

It's hard to much harder to drag himself out of the house and to work.  

.

 

One of the hardest things about having Micky was figuring out what her dad was wrong about. It wasn't as simple as saying everything he ever did or said was wrong, because people don't work that way. Some things, like physical discipline, like threats, like drinking heavily, were easy. Things like "don't trust other people", "carry your own weight", and "you put your family first", were more difficult. It helps being surrounded by "normal" people- the realization that everyone is a little fucked up in some way or another even if it's not as bad as you.

Lisa met Lucy's mother for the first time in the middle of Lucy's divorce. The straw that broke the camel's back is better off not mentioned, but it was telling that the highest praise Lucy gave her husband, in fact the only vaguely positive comment she made about him had been, "my parents are pleased with him, he's 'career oriented'." It went a little in the way of explaining why the man was hardly ever around. Despite the amount of time she spent with his wife and daughter, Lisa only saw him three times before their divorce.

Funny enough, the divorce had brought mother and daughter closer together than ever.

"You're sure you don't want to go?"

"For the last time- my mom wants you to go, I want you to go, _you_ want to go. I hate classical music and my mom knows it. We're both happy that she has someone else to go with."

Lisa relaxes her shoulders.

She went to her first classical concert when she was twenty. The tickets had been a gift from Lucy and her absentee husband for watching Joy. Lisa would have loved it, would have kept it as a treasured memory, even if the music had been awful. It was a gift from a friend, something specifically for her, because Lucy thought she'd enjoy it, and was _grateful_. When the strings started fluttering in the opening of the first movement, Lisa's heart began to soar, just like it used to gliding along the ice.

Hikari Yamada has the same build as her daughter, twenty-five years older and eight inches shorter. She has a sweet, high pitched voice and a kind face- in this as far from her daughter as possible. She's also about five times more mean.  Lisa is embarrassingly pleased that Hikari adores her. 

Tonight they're seeing the Starling City Symphony. Although last year the season tickets had been for Lucy and her mom in name, this year they had lost the pretense and Lisa had accompanied her to every one. It was an indulgence that Lisa truly loved.

"A local soloist." Hikari snorts. "At least they're also doing Beethoven's Fifth."

Lisa hides a smile. She's looking forward to hearing the young soloist, a winner of the biannual concerto competition.

"I can't wait to hear it live, especially after reading that book you got me."

Hikari smiles. "I thought you'd like it. I love my daughter, but it's nice having someone who appreciates the finer things in life."

Lisa ducks her head.

"Your brother's still single isn't he? He and Lucy would make a fine pair, _and_ you'd be my daughter in law."

It's said off hand, jokingly, but the idea of Len getting married is so strange that her mind blanks for a second.

The idea hadn't even crossed her mind, talking to Lenny on the phone, pulling him out of his life and into theirs, what he might want. Thinking about it now made her stomach burn in shame, but then it hadn't even been a consideration. Of course Lenny would help her- he was her brother and that's what family was _for_. The thought of him dating, deprioritizing their family, leaving, was like a rug pulled out from under her. And how could Lisa have spent so much time trying to be a better person, trying to figure out what that even meant, and still be so goddamned selfish that the thought of her brother happy with someone else tied her stomach in knots.

The music passes through her ears like the white noise of a freeway.

Lisa (and Micky) are financially dependent on Lenny. Lisa helped him out with finances, knew how much they spent per month, knew what was in their joint account at the bank. She knew Len had more, from his less than legal jobs before they moved, stored away somewhere, but that would be completely missing the point. With Lucy and the other parents in the neighborhood, Lisa's lack of a job, they didn't need childcare aside from the few days of the week Micky went to a local pre-school. In a little less than two years Micky would be off to kindergarten, no time at all and an eternity.

Lisa is beautiful, can be charming when she tries. With a job and an extended loan on the house, they (Mick and Lisa, not Lenny) could get by.

It's easy to learn to distinguish needs from wants when you grow up wanting so much, but Lisa's brain still tries it's best to trick her into thinking she _needs_ her brother. It's why it takes her a week to talk to Lenny about it, until he leaves on some four day long bullshit excuse of a business trip.

The excuses are insidious- because Micky loves him. Because she loves him, because she missed him so much when he was gone and how could she survive losing him?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update :)  
> DO NOT READ THIS IF GORE BOTHERS YOU

His release doesn't make the news, just a note in the prison's website. Len can hear the indiscernible mumble of Lisa and Micky's voices through the door, high and joyful. When he left them to check his email, Lisa had been trying to coerce Mick into a pair of shoes.

He goes downstairs, possibilities flitting through his head. Lisa beams up at him and Len wishes he knew what his face looked like to make her expression drop so quickly. He doesn't feel much of anything at all.

"Whats wrong?"

Len tells his body to frown, to sigh, "Just got called into work."

Lisa's shoulders relax. "Seriously? It's Saturday!" Micky frowns at both of them.

"Lee, we go see water?" She asks with a toddler's careful pronunciation. She looks up at him with wide blue eyes. The same color as Lisa's, the same he sees in the mirror every morning. Len clenches the hand unconsciously reaching ruffle her riotous black curls.

"You and your mom are. Take care of her for me, kiddo."

Micky looks at him suspiciously.

"Okay!"

 

Len loved his father before he hated him, and for a long time after. Hatred is all that's left now, corrosive and nauseating, but luckily, for the most part, Len feels nothing.

The nothingness came the first time Len saw someone die- Lisa's mom, he had been waiting there after school, for his grandpa to come by with Lisa after her practice. At first there had been panic- immediate and stupid. Then a nurse had explained why they weren't doing something. Do not resuscitate. The panic faded back.

He felt nothing when his dad got out of jail. He felt nothing when his dad hit him the first time, or when he hit Lisa. He felt nothing when he saw someone killed the first time- one of his father's men, a cashier. When his grandpa died, when he went to juvie, when he met Mick, when he left Lisa, Len was floating in a sea of nothing.

Nothing when he can tell over the phone Lisa doesn't believe he's going on a business trip.

Nothing when he goes back to his home town for the first time in over three years. Nothing when he cases his father's place- staying with some new woman he's conned. Nothing when she leaves for her night shift at a nearby motel. Nothing when he knocks on the door and his father greets him tight smile- cold and smug, tv blaring in the background. Nothing when he closes the door behind. Nothing when he pulls the trigger. When the bullet tears through his father's brain right to left with a bright red splatter.

The sound of the tv filters into his awareness piece by piece. That obnoxious jingle with the talking cat. Len vomits in the sink, hot fast and acidic, eyes stinging. He coughs, wipes his mouth, and fumbles around the kitchen for a bottle of bleach. He empties the entire thing to drain down the remnants. His heart is pounding in his chest, cold sweat kicking up, and his mouth tastes foul.

Looking at his dad on the ground, he thinks about Mickey's bright grin, how she would never even know this pathetic piece of shit existed. He thinks about the years of abuse that Lisa suffered while he did nothing to stop it. Lisa deserved a childhood like that, soft and protected. Every child did. Even a monster like him.

Len's head aches and his body is thrums with the potential for violence. He swipes his hand across the counter, knocking the empty bleach bottle and stacks of dirty dishes to the floor with a satisfying clatter. Papers go flying when he flips the table, and pieces of the wooden chair splinter off like bones snapping.

Glass and ceramic crunch under his boots. Len needs to leave, that racket would have been overheard even with the tv, but his dad is lying in the midst of the chaos, pristine except for the red hole through his head, leaking brain matter. Half of a chair is still clenched in his gloved fist. It's easy, to break a dead man's bones. Delicate facial structure caving easily to the blunt force of a steel toed boot, arrhythmic crunching to accompany the sound of Carl Cameron's voice.

When his dad is an unrecognizable pulp of gore, Len comes back to his body slowly. He feels his pounding heart, his shaking arms. He loosens his fists, flinches at the sound the sodden wood makes as it hits the floor.

He feels nothing.

 

Lisa is on the couch when he gets home. One bare foot is resting on the scratched hardwood floor, arms wrapped around the other leg against her chest. She flinches when she notices him and pulls down her head phones. There are dark circles under her eyes mirroring his own. There's something twitchy and anxious in her body language. She flashes him a quick smile, fake as anything.

"Hey Lenny."

"Lisa."

"Could you sit down for a minute?"

There's a pressure in his chest- light, easy to ignore. He sits down next to her, in the same spot he always sits, in the morning, reading the paper while Micky watches cartoons. In the evening when they play poker- two against one, teaching her how to count. In the middle of the night when neither of them can sleep, watching old reruns on the tv.

"I was young when I had Mick." Lisa starts, eyes fixed on the black screen, like this was any other night.

It's then that Len realizes she's not going to ask him where he's been. He's not sure what he would have told her. Would it be a relief for her to know that the specter over hanging the house with an anxious cyclical dread was dead and never coming back? Would she be happy? Sad? Horrified that he'd killed his own father? Pissed off that he hadn't asked her to help?

"I've never been good at talking about his kind of thing, but I'm older now."

Nineteen, twenty-three, sometimes Len couldn't help but see her at seven curled up next to him in the back of their grandpa's truck, at twelve- cheap mascara running down her cheeks, trophy in hand, begging him not to leave. At fifteen- drunk and wild, a stranger, at nine- sobbing her eyes out because her mom's never coming home.

For all that he's knows his sister- all the blood sweat and tears she's put into their lives here, tearing at her personality, habits and history like a seamstress and sewing her pieces back into something more kid friendly-he has no idea how she'd react to what he's done tonight. The pressure grows in his chest, tight and uncomfortable. Len never wanted this life.

"What I put on you was fucked up. You don't have to stay. I'll love you, you'll still be the best brother and uncle in the entire planet, if you want to leave."

Len drops his head on her shoulder, wraps his arms around her and falls to pieces.


	7. Chapter 7

The morning is groggy with a dead arm and an aching neck. Although their couch is a decent size, two adults don't fit very comfortably. It had been at least a decade since they'd fallen asleep together, on a couch, in the the same bed, in the back of a car. After ten years of pain, growth and time, her brother's arms still feel like the safest place in the world. Lisa's throat hurts, but her eyes stay dry.

Lenny, who has for as long as she can remember been an incredibly light sleeper, hasn't stirred. There are dark bags under his eyes and stubble on his cheeks, but he looks content in the same way Micky does when she's dead to the world.

Lisa doesn't track the passage of time, but Lenny wakes up to a toddler crawling onto his lap. He doesn't even flinch, just opens his eyes to look down on Micky with the same expression Lisa knew was on her own face. It settled her heart a little. Lenny did love both of them even if he did want to leave. The dark circles under his eyes emphasize the paler shade of his skin. Lisa swallows against the uncomfortable feeling of a dry throat.

"Do you have to go into work today?" Her voice is hoarse.

Lenny frowns slowly. "What day is it?"

Lisa does her best to the worry off her face. Len always knew what day it was usually knew the hour almost down to an uncanny accuracy even when he first woke up.

"It's Monday."

There's a pregnant pause and Len stares at the light streaming through the curtain. His face settles into something cold and unreadable, a disturbing contrast to the earlier warmth and affection.

"Yes," he finally answers, lifting a protesting Micky off his lap. "I will."

Lisa picks her up and mirrors his scrunched up face back to him.

"I want Lenny today," Micky whines.

"I know munchkin. I'll see if we can visit for lunch."

Her daughter sniffs but her pout relaxes. Lisa knows she'll be a terror when she's older and has been trying her best not to be too permissive. She smacks a kiss on her forehead and sets her down.

"Love you baby. Eggs and sausage or oatmeal?"

"Fwench toast."

"Was that one of the options?"

"... Eggs."

As she walks to the kitchen Lisa notices that Len, meticulously neat, tracked in some dirt the night before. She shoves the worry down. When Lenny emerges he looks perfectly put together, but doesn't accept his plate of breakfast.

"Sorry sis, I'll pick something up at work."

Lisa pouts, but her heart isn't in it. "Can we stop by at lunch?"

Alarm bells go off when Lenny runs a hand through her hair, expression inscrutable. "Of course. See you then."

The yawning chasm of uncertainty over the future creeps closer to where Lisa's feet firmly balance on the ledge. Even when Lenny had been in juvie, Lisa had only worried about herself without him, not for her ever capable and smart big brother. Even under their father's fists he'd seemed somehow untouchable. It's why she'd been so heartbroken when he left. Lisa hasn't been a child for a long time now, but it's the first time she's feared for Lenny.

Lisa wasn't raised to feel guilt over snooping, so it's with no compunction that she inspects Lenny's room the second he's out the door. His clothes from the night before are in the hamper and his shoes are in his closet, unwashed and mud splattered in dual colored patterns. Lisa crinkles her nose and looks closer. _Blood_ splattered.

Lisa had spent the past week convincing herself that shes capable, that she's a good mother, that she can take care of other people. But what reason does she have to think that? After her brother stopped taking care of her she'd run around living off strangers, and the second she'd hit a wall, unplanned pregnancy, she'd gone crying to big brother again to fix everything for her. Lisa fingers the scar on her shoulder. How many times had Len stepped in front of her father for her? She had never returned the favor, was so unbelievably angry when he saved himself and left. Lisa may know how to take care of Micky now, but she'd never even tried to help Lenny.

She doesn't know how.

The boots are in her hands, mind on the bleach in the cupboard when Micky calls for her.

"Mommy! I can't find my socks."

Lisa's thoughts are scattered. It feels like there's a fog inside her head muddling up any sort of plans she'd had. She can feel her pulse rushing through her head. And it's like she's fourteen again and after months of Len slowly slipping away from their father's clutches he's finally gone.

Lisa breathes in slowly through her nose and counts to five. Exhales and counts to seven. The wall is cold against her back.

"Mommy!"

Lisa swallows, squeezes her eyes shut, then jumps up, shoving the boots into Lenny's closet.

It doesn't matter if she _can_ do it. She will.

 

"How much is Mountain View per hour?"

Lucy frowns over at Lisa from her seat on the couch. "I was serious when I said my mom and I don't mind watching Micky even with Joy in Kindergarten."

Lisa sighs, not wanting to get into an argument. "I know, and I'm grateful, but I think it might actually be a good thing to get Micky socializing with more kids before she gets to Elementary school."

Lucy shrugs. "Joy hated it, but Micky's pretty different. It's your choice. Mountain View is 200$ per week 8 to 5."

Lisa files the figure away for later consideration.

"Hey Joy." The five year old looks up from where the two kids are reading a thick cardboard book. "Why didn't you like pre school?" Joy crinkles her nose. "They made me wear a dress for the holiday recital."

Joy has always been an unilimenable tomboy, still Lisa didn't approve of adults forcing children to dress up to fit their standards. Lucy sighs. "It was one day Joy."

Joy crinkles her nose. "They had nap time every day to. I'm not a baby."

Lucy smirks. "Youre a very mature five year old. And your elementary school doesn't have any uniforms, so no more dresses or skirts."

Lisa's respect had grown for Lucy after seeing her handle a daughter so different from herself. Although she obviously didn't understand why Joy felt the way she did about so many things, she did her best to respect her wants and needs, and did it all without her ex husband.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay over for lunch? You look pretty tired Lis."

Lisa pastes a mock affronted look on her face before letting it drop. "Thanks, but I've got some other errands to run."

It only takes a wide eyed look to concede to Micky's lunch choice. Breakfast food had always been the comfort food of choice for Lenny and Lisa and although they'd never discussed it, Lisa knows her reasons are the same as her brothers. The smell of old grease overpowering old people and booze always reminded Lisa of trips to the diner with her grandfather.

"Hello, ladies!" The hostess greats them with a huge smile. "Can I just say you two look adorable today? Are you getting something to go, or would you like a table?"

Lisa reflexively looks down to where she's holding her daughter's hand. They're both wearing blue long sleeved dresses and grey leggings. Lisa blinks, cursing Lucy in her head for not mentioning anything, before looking back up with a flirtatious smile.

"Thanks, we're ordering out today. Two orders of pancakes and a kid's french toast." Not the most graceful food to eat out of a box, but Lisa knew Lenny would never complain about sticky fingers.

They find him talking in a low voice to a pale receptionist. His eyes flash to them when they open the door and he finishes his sentence before rapping the tips of his fingers on the poor man's desk. Micky squeezes her fingers.

"I'll be taking a thirty," Len drawls to the frozen office.

Lisa watches a woman in a flowery blouse scurry back to work, a little perturbed. Her brother's tense posture relaxes minutely when he shuts the door to his office. Micky drops Lisa's hand like it's a slug and squeezes Lenny's legs, nose pressed into his thigh. He ruffles her her curls and settles her onto his desk, moving a few stacks of paper aside. Neither sibling were strong on physical affection, but Micky had a tendency to climb everyone like a jungle gym and their old habits had begun to change. Lisa wonders if Len gets the same comfort from it that she does or if it makes his skin crawl, the way it used to for her.

Len's lunch break is spent listening to Micky recount everything that had happened while Lenny was gone with many excited hand gestures and, thankfully, only one instance of splattered syrup. Lisa can feel her own tension creep out of her as she sees her brother's shoulder's relax, frown ease up, and eyes begin to crinkle. Lisa's the one that ends up ushering them out for once, wanting to catch the owner of her gym before she leaves.

It's more calculation than convenience that Lisa brings Micky to talk to Meiko. The older woman had a soft spot a mile wide for the little girl. Lisa lets her have her ace bandages as a distraction and focuses her attention back to the owner.

"I remember you talking about having a couple self defense class before, and I was wondering if you thought I could teach?" It comes out awkward and stilted and Lisa doesn't think she has ever felt quite this young. The considering frown Meiko levels on her doesn't help, although Lisa knows she's not doing to make her uncomfortable.

"If you're looking for a hobby, I'd be happy to arrange something, but it wouldn't bring in a lot of money-" Lisa's hope rises- "I wouldn't feel comfortable charging very much."

And plummets. She doesn't have it in her to feel guilty about needing cash, but the idea of someone not learning because it was out of their financial means...

"Do you have any experience with firearms?"

Lenny was the one who taught her gun safety, maintenance, how to aim and how to shoot. It was at an age neither of them should have been left with a gun without supervision, but there were lots of little things about their childhood that didn't fit the mold of 'how things are supposed to be'. Lisa never had a strong inclination to learn how to fight, only picking it up as a way to get back in shape that wasn't as suburban mom-ey as kick boxing. She had known how to break multiple holds, but had also thought the likelihood of coming out of an altercation unscathed was much higher with better weaponry than using her muscles.

Lisa's reply is curt. "Yes."

Meiko sighs and glances over to where Micky is wrapping her legs together on the floor. "I'm friends with the hiring manager at a body guarding company. Mostly for personal, and mostly as more of a show and deterrent than actual protection, but obviously the line of work can still be dangerous." Her eyes look to sharp for Lisa's comfort. "Promise me to think it over thoroughly and I'll talk to him for you."

Lisa is in the middle of an obsessive research binge by the time Len gets back that evening. It's funny because Lisa had wanted to get a job because Lenny wouldn't be there, but had the realization that she couldn't do anything to put her own safety at more of a risk without him there to take care of Micky. Not that she doesn't love and trust the Yamadas, but the thought of Micky without her _or_ Lenny...

"I want to stay."

.

When he was younger Len went through a psychology phase. What could be more valuable than understanding what made people tick? Of course authors and scientists, like all humans, are fallible, but it was always good to look at life from different perspectives. A lot of it made sense- the hierarchy of needs, power structures, mob mentality- easy to see in other people and to use. Eventually the knot in his stomach stopped him from reading more. He wasn't interested in changing himself. The idea of feeling about other people like he felt about Lisa, like he used to feel about his dad, was anathema. No one on earth knew how he felt about Mick.

Those first few months in Starling City exacerbated it to the point Len started to get nervous. The neighbor, her baby, his coworkers- they were all like dolls in a playhouse. The anxiety had faded though, people had started to come back into view, still detached, but alive. Micky's birth had helped somehow. The baby had been an abstract concept in his head through Lisa's pregnancy, right up until the fragile squalling creature was in his arms. In his weak moments, when he let his emotions and fears slip into his conscious thoughts, he had been terrified that he would see Micky and feel nothing.

He needn't have worried, because where he'd let anyone die for Lisa, let anything burn for Mick- he'd do _anything_ for Micky. Build a new life, try to change the world.

 

They give him two weeks before approaching. Some kind of grieving period. So fucking respectful, those government types. Wu, as the recruiter introduces himself, screams his vocation from his ramrod straight back to his smug expression.

The second Len makes him he feels spiders crawl up his back, ice down his spine, fight, flight, _freeze_ kicking in like he's nine years old and his dad's just hit him for the first time. His heart is in his throat, mind flicking through all the places Lisa could end up, all the places _Micky_ could end up, with all of his and Lisa's jailbreaking skills years rusty.

In retrospect, he'd been easy pickings. Barely thirty, just killed his abusive father, a giant gaping weak spot in Micky and Lisa.

He goes through four interviews before he meets her, and he's gotten his panic under control by the third. Amanda Waller isn't the head of the organization, A.R.G.U.S., of course Len's _heard_ of them, but there's a sharkish look in her eyes that says she will be sooner or later. And even though he's no longer on the verge of a panic attack, he's still putty in her hands. Because would do anything to protect their lives in Starling City. The real question is why they want him. Len is just broken down enough by that point to ask- not point blank of course, wrapped in sarcasm and false bravado- because Len had been miles batter than his father, but by the time he cut and ran he'd still been doing small time lifts. Something he wouldn't expect to be on anyone's radar but the local police.

Her teeth are a sharp contrast against her skin and she'd be beautiful if you went for powerhungry and amoral.

"Mr. Snart, I'm sure you aren't blind to your _potential_."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support yall. I'm gonna try and finish this though parts may be choppy and unedited

Len stays. In the house and closed off. He gets a promotion that comes along with odd hours, business trips out of the city, and a working environment that is apparently not kid or sister friendly. His bloody boots are in the back of her mind, but Lisa can never seem to get the words out to ask him about it. She tries to let those questions go, focus on bonding time with Micky and doing her damnedest to make Len's life a little better. 

The call comes a month after Micky turns four, and Lisa somehow finishes the conversation with the first job interview of her life lined up at the end of the week. It had been a big change, having Micky at school for most of the day, leaving Lisa with a lot of free time and little company. Their house is hospital clean. She mulls it over while cooking dinner, Lenny and Micky reading in the living room.

She can't deny that the idea of having a job is satisfying on a personal level. That it would prove she is capable. Or that the idea of this job in particular sounds _fun_. The latter double hits that she shouldn't be indulging in reckless behavior for the thrill, or at all. Lisa is determined to some form of employment either way. She wants to be providing financially, is bored out of her skull and-

And is a little unsure of her brother. The thought stings and feels like guilt and betrayal, but she forces herself to hold on to it. He's been gone more often than not, and when he is home he's distant. He still always asks her and Micky what is happening with them, but he doesn't seem to have any stories of his own.

"Is Joy my cousin?"

Micky's question comes out of the blue while Lisa and Len share dish duty.

Lisa frowns and shares a glance with her brother before answering, "Close enough to it. What made you bring that up, sweetheart?"

Micky crinkles her nose. "Joey said he lives with his cousins. And his grandma. Do I have a grandma?"

Lisa's heart thumps painfully in her chest and her hand unconsciously reached for the scar on her shoulder.

Lenny saves her "What about Misses Hikari?" 

Micky brightens up and Lisa lets herself breathe for a second before she dives in. 

"Everybody's families are a different size, Micks."

“Jay and me are both same size though.”

Len shrugs a shoulder at her as if he’s saying , well the kids kind of right. Lisa shrugs back, deciding to save the rest of that conversation for a later time. 

The day before her interview, Lisa can think of nothing else. Irritatingly, even with Lucy’s prodding she can’t bring herself to discuss it with her friend. There were a lot of things the two women shared, and it wasn’t that Lisa thought Lucy would disapprove… She just didn’t want to see how the woman’s impression of her would change. If she knew that Lisa knew how to handle a gun. And Lisa didn’t want to tell some watered down story explaining how she’d learned, or why, or when. Didn’t want to avoid her questions, not when Lisa wasn’t even sure she’d take the job in the first place.

Lisa isn’t sure why she hasn’t talked to Len about it, as he’d be the one with the most reasonable advice. He’d been gone the past two days on a business trip, but she could have called

Instead of examining her thoughts and feelings further, Lisa throws herself into cooking an absurdly elaborate dinner, enhanced by Micky’s skill with a wooden spoon. Lisa texts her brother at 7, an hour later than he’d given as his prospected arrival time. He never replies, but does get home just as Lisa’s setting the table. She gives him a distracted greeting, trying to stop Micky from getting egg wash all over their oven. He grunts in response to how his trip was, but that was to be expected. 

After dinner, Len heads straight to the couch. Not an entirely unusual, he sometimes listens to Micky read curled up next to him on the couch or stares blankly at the news instead of helping her clean the kitchen. Lisa doesn’t realize anything is off until after she puts the last plate into the drying rack. She’d been distracted that evening, mulling over all the possible paths she had laid out in a blurry mirage in front of her. As she dries her hands though, she notices that Micky is sitting at the table with her book instead of the living room, the occasional thump-thump of her small feet against the wooden leg of the chair the only sound in their house.

The kid is obviously distracted, glancing up every moment or so to take a peek at the living room, door way out of sight from her spot. She jumps when Lisa sits down next to her. Lisa ruffles her curls with a raised eyebrow. Mick’s eyes flick again toward the living room. Lisa frowns at the weight that drops in her stomach and walks over to the doorway.

Lenny’s sitting at his usual spot, staring blankly at the tv. The screen is black, no sound coming through. His breathing is just audible, slow and metronomic, shoulders relaxed in a way that looks impossibly stiff.

“Lenny?” Lisa’s voice is soft, barely louder than their breathing, but it feels like she shouted it across the room. He turns the same blank look to her. Lisa has never been afraid of her brother, and this moment isn’t an exception, but for the first time, she feels like maybe she should be. A second later, Len’s head turns back to the screen.

Cursing herself in her head, Lisa sits down next to him, a foot of space between their thighs. She follows his gaze to the screen. She can still see in the corner of her eye where Len’s hand has clenched into a tight fist. She matches her breathes to his, in for a slow count of five and out for longer. Lisa only notices her racing heart as it slows down.

Len breaks their breathing pattern with a big gust of air out, and slowly with careful eyes on her, wraps an arm around her shoulder. Lisa leans into his side.

Len loved his father before he hated him, and started hating himself a long time before. He’d killed men before, men with families and people who loved them. Of his own volition and his fathers. But that Len had been groomed into. Working for an organization like A.R.G.U.S. the government, carrying out these unofficially sanctioned missions, even when Len felt nothing, but numb, he could still taste the bile in the back of his throat.

Len knew it shouldn’t, that it should make him feel like a worse piece of shit, but having Micky and Lisa their helped. Lisa’s tense under his arm.

"You okay, sis?"

Lisa looks up for a second, but Len can’t for the life of him parse what his sister is thinking. 

"I have a job interview."

Len's eyebrows shoot up. He had done his best to stay checked in with Lisa and Micky, but obviously some things had fallen through with his absence.

“What for?”

Lisa’s eyebrows raise to match his, “Well, while this whole house wife thing has been fun…”

Len rolls his eyes, “I meant doing what.”

Lisa stretches her toes out, and they both watch them curl. Len realizes that maybe that was what he meant. He’d been providing for both of them without problem for the past six years. He remembers with crystal clarity their conversation on this couch just over two months ago. Her giving him the blessing to jump ship. Nausea rises in his gut. She’d found out. What he’d done, what he’d been doing for the past month. And she didn’t want it around her and their kid.

“Playing bodyguard for rich snobs.”

with the snarky tone of voice, shoulders back, nose high, that Len realizes his sister is nervous. Maybe about the job, maybe about his reaction. As former members of the shadier part of society, they were both used to dealing with rich people from the opposite side. And know Len knew more than ever the “good” guys are as twisted as the bad. He breathes in, pushes the nausea and worry down- if he didn’t have them, what did he- 

"You'll get the job. You should do it."

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions (presumably) terminal cancer, uninformed paternity, abortion and suicidal thoughts. Probably not as bad as it sounds.  
> Please review if you are so inclined.


End file.
